


to tell a tale again

by scars_across_the_sky



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Dead Hero of Ferelden - Freeform, F/F, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Storytelling, Tags May Change, This some sad shit, at least, idk what else to tag except for my tears, its sad to me, tagged it as graphic depictions of violence to be safe, time wise this is set in Inquisition with Leliana talking about the past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29100378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scars_across_the_sky/pseuds/scars_across_the_sky
Summary: A seemingly innocent question from the Inquisitor leaves Leliana with her mind in the past.
Relationships: Female Cousland/Leliana (Dragon Age), Leliana/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've spent entirely too much time thinking about Dragon Age, specifically my Warden and Leliana, lately, so here ya go

“Can you tell me any stories?” came the earnest question from the Inquisitor. Tall in a way Cosima had not been. Horned too. Dark grey skin and white hair, sharply contrasting to Cosima’s pale skin, her dark auburn hair.

There was no reason for Leliana to be reminded so forcefully of Cosima, so brutally. Not in the Vashoth that stood before her. But she was. Oh, she was.

With that innocent question, Leliana is transported back ten years, to the campsite, somewhere in the depths of the miserable Ferelden wilderness, standing on watch with Cosima. Both bone-weary and wanting nothing more than to sleep, but unable to afford such luxuries.

_“Do you have any tales from your time as a traveling minstrel to share?”_

Even their words had not been the same.

_She smiled. “Of course, what would you like to hear about? Of the bravery of the first female Chevalier? Or perhaps how the folly of men led to our current situation? Or the tragedy of Flemeth, Witch of the Wilds? Of the betrayal of Andraste? Or perhaps of the proud Dalish?”_

_“All of them, of course,” Cosima said. That soft, gentle smile of hers peeking out behind her layers of stoicism. “In any order you wish.”_

Leliana returns her attention to the Inquisitor standing before her, like a child, eager to hear what tale she might spin.

So unlike her Cosima, but also exactly like her.

It hurt.

“Perhaps another time, your Worship,” she says, biting back the harsh words that threaten to claw their way out of her throat. “I… it has been a long time, since I have practiced as a bard… another time, Athlok.”

“Oh,” Athlok says in realization. “I, I am sorry, I did not mean to offend. I will take my leave. Good day, Lady Nightingale.”

“Inquisitor,” Leliana calls, because Cosima would have. Cosima wouldn’t have let a companion keep a misconception. “You did not offend, truthfully. That was… another time in my life, one I seldom think on.” She hesitates, but continues. She says what Cosima would say, would offer, despite the pain it would have caused her. “Come to me tomorrow, and I will share a tale then.”

The smile she gets is wide and blinding, where Cosima’s had been soft and reserved.

“Thank you Leliana!”

And then she is left alone.

She hates being alone.

It reminds her of what she lost, even ten years after. Cosima had been there, once, to fill the silence. The empty space. She had slotted herself into Leliana’s life, calmly, quietly. Like she had always been part of Leliana.

She was supposed to _stay_.

Her hand snakes up to her throat, pulling the chain out from under her leather coat, to look at the locket Zevran had gifted her, large enough to hold what little she had left of her love. Cosima’s Mabari, Rabbit, had died some years earlier. Leliana cried more tears that day than she had thought possible.

Opening the locket, she was met with a pressing of Andraste’s Grace – the very same one Cosima had picked for her during her travels through the Brecilian Forest. She also had a lock of Cosima’s hair, cut before the final battle, intertwined with a short length of the braided leather that had once made Rabbit’s collar. And a letter, the letter Cosima had left for her with Wynne should the worst happen.

She left the letter, for now, knowing if she read it, she would be worthless for the remainder of the day, and she had far too much to do now to let that happen. Besides, she had long since memorized the words. She allowed herself a moment or two longer to stare at that which she treasured above all else before she snapped the locket shut and got back to work.

The world needed saving again, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Leliana is unsurprised when Athlok comes bounding up the stairs into the rookery with the rising sun the following day.

“Good morning, Lady Nightingale!”

“Good morning, your Worship,” Leliana replied, humor coating her voice.

“I’ve never heard an epic tale before,” she says by way of explanation for her exuberance. “Only hunting stories, or exaggerated boasts of fights in taverns.”

Leliana hummed but made no remark. Looking over the reports on her desk, she tried to stall for time before the inevitable. She’d read and dealt with them all the previous day, even responding to the dull weekly updates that poured in still from the Hinterlands. Harding had given her searching looks the whole day after the Inquisitor had left her, undoubtedly wondering _why_ Leliana was insisting on dealing with everything when she would usually delegate the less pressing reports.

Throwing herself into her work had always kept her mind from wandering.

She stacked the parchment; there was no new information to absorb, nothing to keep her from fulfilling her promise.

Leliana sighed and braced herself. “What do you wish to hear?”

“Could you tell me about the Hero of Ferelden?” Athlok asked, settling into a spare chair, her eyes bright and glittering. “Solas said he walked the Fade at Ostagar and saw both sides of the betrayal, and, and I saw the statue in Redcliffe! They introduced you as a veteran of the Fifth Blight at the Winter Palace! You must have known her!”

Leliana clutched her necklace, her eyes falling closed. _Of course_ Athlok would ask to hear what she did not wish to tell. What she wished to keep to herself, buried deep beneath layers and layers of her barbed personality, never to see the light of day again. It was too painful, to think on what was – what had been stolen from her in the name of duty.

But… Cosima did not belong just to her. She could not covet the details of her life like precious secrets when they were so readily available in history books. And even then, they were a poor rendition of her love – just as the statue raised in her honor in Redcliffe was.

All the words in all the languages in the world were incapable of capturing the spirit of Cosima Cousland.

Leliana let out a sigh and rubbed her forehead tiredly; she _had_ agreed to do this – Cosima would do this, if their roles had been reversed, so she would too. In the years since the Blight, it was more often than not her memory of Cosima and not her faith in the Maker that guided her hand.

Her faith had been irreparably shaken when Cosima died; she felt His presence grow cold as she watched Cosima crumple and fall, her blades embedded in the archdemon’s skull.

One moment a cherished child, the next… abandoned.

If He truly loved his children, wouldn’t He have spared Cosima, a devout Andrastian? Wouldn’t He have spared Leliana from this never-ending pain?

“I did know her,” she admitted as she sunk into her own chair, eyes dull and distant. “I traveled with her as she united Ferelden in the midst of the civil war, to save us from the Blight.”

A ghost of a smile paints across her lips. Bittersweet, as suppressed memories resurface. “We were in love,” she said wistfully. “Even in the midst of all the chaos, I was happy. Truly happy. And then she…”

Athlok immediately backpedals, horror drowning her usual cheerful features. “Stars, I’m so sorry, I, I didn’t know-”

“And how could you?” Leliana cut her off, focusing her gaze on the Inquisitor. “I so rarely speak of her, of that time in my life… don’t be sorry, Inquisitor. I agreed to this, after all, knowing your interest in her history.

“I will tell you her life, as I knew it. Far too few people _know_ the woman who gave her life in the ultimate sacrifice, and that is partly my fault, it has been too… painful to speak of her. All that is written of her pales in comparison to what she was like; the words fall flat where she had lived and breathed.

“Cosima Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden, was born to Teyrn and Teyrna Cousland of Highever – their second child. She once told me that she truly had no intentions of joining the Grey Wardens, seeing her duty to Highever as far more important.

“You see, in Ferelden, nobles earn and keep their titles through service to the country, and the Couslands have stewarded over Highever for generations – before Ferelden’s first king had been crowned, even. To her, there was nothing more important than serving those that lived in Highever, just as her forefathers had done before her.

“But that life was taken away from her, the very night her brother left for Ostagar at the head of the bulk of their forces, leaving naught but a token force behind. Taking advantage of the weakened state, Arl Rendon Howe marched on Castle Cousland, intent on killing everyone within. She had such horrible nightmares of that night….

“Luckily, or unluckily, Warden-Commander Duncan was visiting, recruiting – the threat of the darkspawn in the south demanded that he leave with one who would join the Grey Wardens. Originally, he had his eye on one of their knights – Ser Gilmore, Cosima told me – but with the attack…. In exchange for helping her escape the castle, she was to join the Grey Wardens.

“I know not if she held a grudge against Duncan for that, I truly don’t think she was allowed enough… time to mourn and come to terms with what happened – the way that Duncan refused to do more to help save her parents, her people – before the Battle of Ostagar where Warden-Commander Duncan died.

“I never knew him, but Alistair would not hear a word against him, for he saved him from an unwanted life in the Templars – perhaps the first act of kindness that he knew – and Cosima had rather a lot on her placed shoulders to ever really think on what happened past the nightmares she had of that night. But I imagine if she ever did think on it, she held her tongue on the topic more out of respect for Alistair than anything – the people of Castle Cousland were her entire world, and Duncan lifted not a finger to help them… and as a Warden, she could not pursue the man that orchestrated the attack, she could not avenge her family for Wardens remain neutral in all things not a Blight.

“Being conscripted into the Grey Wardens could be a blessing or a curse, depending on your circumstances.

“At the Battle of Ostagar, Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir of Gwaren betrayed King Cailan, leaving him for dead. We never did learn the full story from him, the reasons he had for his betrayal to the throne, but Cosima knew his retreat to be intentional rather than strategic. ‘Too much was done, too much damage wrought, for it to be just that.’ she told me once.

“Queen Anora did not wish to see her father murdered, but Cosima and Alistair held too much hatred for him in their hearts. As our leader, Cosima dueled him and, upon winning, she executed him. Alistair had a fit over that, he wanted to be the one to do so, but Cosima calmed him – she knew all of us sometimes better than we knew ourselves. She always knew how to smooth over any ruffled feathers. Morrigan often needed such smoothing and ended up forging a close relationship with Cosima, close as siblings… _why_ she left on the eve of the final battle, I know not…”

Leliana stopped and shook her head, bemused with herself. “Maker, it really has been quite some time since I’ve told a story. Forgive me, I’m all over the place.”

“It’s alright, Leliana.”

She smiled at the Inquisitor. “You are too kind. Let me start again, this time at the beginning.

“I did not properly meet Cosima until after the Battle of Ostagar, not until she and her companions slunk into Lothering, bruised, bloodied, and broken – in more ways than one. I was a Lay Sister at the time, but I had a vision, one that convinced me to leave the Chantry, to join the remaining Grey Wardens of Ferelden in protecting the world from the Blight.

“I was in the Dane’s Refuge, the local tavern, trying to persuade a farmer against poisoning the traps he had placed on his lands when she and her companions entered.”

* * *

“Barlin, really, _must_ you poison your traps? Is it not enough to have the traps on your land?” Leliana asked.

“Bah! It’s my property, what’s it got to do with the Chantry if I poison _my_ traps or not?!”

Rubbing her forehead in exasperation, Leliana was saved from arguing further with the stubborn farmer when the soldiers left there by Teyrn Loghain on his march back to Denerim began to speak, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Well. Look what we have here, men. I think we’ve just been blessed.” Chairs scraped against the stone floor as the men stood.

Turning around, Leliana saw a group of three people and a mabari – all bruised or injured in some way, blood that had no right being that dark splattered on their armor, and world weary – glaring back at the soldiers. The lone man among them leaned over and said to the woman in front: “Loghain’s men. This can’t be good.”

“Didn’t we spend all morning asking about a woman by this very description, from her ugly mug right down to the cracked hilt on her sword? And everyone said they hadn’t seen her?”

“It seems we were lied to.”

Leliana began moving towards them before she even fully registered it. “Gentlemen. Surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge.” Clearly, they were anything _but_ simple refugees, but it would do no one any good for a fight to break out.

“They’re more than that,” the commander scoffed. “Now, stay out of our way, Sister. You protect these traitors, you’ll get the same as them!”

Before she can retort, the woman spoke up, her voice calm and low, her amber eyes burning holes into the commander. “I don’t need your help, Sister. Please, stand back.”

“ _You_ don’t need my protection, but these men blindly follow their master’s command, even unto death!” Leliana protested. They’d been loitering in the tavern all day and thus were drunk. Very drunk. She would wager that the woman, even beat up as she looked, would be able to handle all of them alone.

“I am not the blind one!” The commander shouted. “I served at Ostagar, where the teyrn saved us from the Grey Wardens’ treachery! I serve him gladly!” He turned and barked orders at his men. “Take the Warden into custody. Kill the Sister and anyone else that gets in your way.”

In an instant, the calm, collected woman transformed into a ferocious fighter, the likes of which had only been recounted in myths and legends before. Or, at least that is how she appeared to Leliana’s eyes.

Her dagger and sword flashed dangerously, focusing the brunt of her fury on the commander. The heavy blows of her blades jarred him to his knees. She brought her own knee up and into his nose with enough force to send him sprawling onto his back, making him drop his sword and shield.

He scrambled back as she advanced on him. “All – all right, you’ve won! We surrender!”

“Good. They’ve learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting, now.” Leliana said, in an attempt to cool the fires burning in the woman’s eyes. She sheathed her dagger she hardly had to use to emphasize her point.

The woman cut a harsh look to her but otherwise did not acknowledge what she said. She looked back to the commander on the floor at her feet. “The Grey Wardens didn’t betray King Cailan. Loghain did.” Her voice was as hard and unyielding as the metal of her blades.

“I was there! The teyrn pulled us out of a trap!”

She shifted her grip on her weapons, and Leliana was quite worried that she might attack the man where he lay defenseless. Instead, she shouted back at him: “The teyrn left the king to die! _I_ was there! _I_ lit the beacon! _I_ watched as the **coward** turned tail and ran, instead of going to the king’s aide!”

“The Wardens led the king to his death!” the fool man protested. “The teyrn could do nothing!”

She sheathed her weapons and in an astonishing show of strength, the woman hoisted the man up by the front of his armor, her hawk-like nose now hardly a space away from his own. “Loghain was the mastermind behind the battle plan, **do not** place his blame at the feet of the Grey Wardens.”

She dropped him, causing him to stumble back into his men that were still standing. She pointed to the door and said in a low voice: “Start running. Right now.”

“Y-yes… thank you! Thank you!”

“Tell Loghain the Grey Wardens know the truth of what happened!” She shouted after him. “He cannot hide his sins – his crimes against Ferelden and the throne – from me any more than he can hide them from the Maker!”

“O-of course!”

She had a ferocious glare on her face as the men ran past her, not unlike the snarl her mabari was sporting. All she was missing was the menacing growl. When the door shut behind the last man, she deflated and ran an agitated hand through her deep auburn hair. She cast a quick look around the tavern, perhaps to survey the damage done by the fight; Leliana did the same and was pleasantly surprised it was not worse than it was. If nothing else, the woman and her companions were competent at damage control.

She looked back to the woman – the Grey Warden! – who now seemed lost in her thoughts. “I apologize for interfering, but I couldn’t just sit by and not help.”

Startled, the woman looked up at Leliana, but she soon settled. “I appreciate what you tried to do.”

“I am glad you found it in your heart to offer those men mercy,” she returned.

The woman gave a snort. “I know not where it came from, after what he said.” Her mouth twisted downward in distaste.

Leliana smiled at her. “Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the chantry here in Lothering. Or, I was.”

“I am Cosima. A pleasure.” She gave a short bow at the waist, her left arm crossed over her right across her chest. The bow of Ferelden nobility – interesting.

“You are a Grey Warden, are you not?” she asked, and Cosima hesitated before giving a firm nod. Leliana beamed at her. “I thought as much. I know after what happened you’ll need all the help you can get. That’s why I’m coming along.”

The Warden gave her a bemused look. “Why so eager to come with me? The path before my companions and I is not an easy one, and will likely end in our deaths.”

Leliana slowly nodded, but she would not be swayed. “The Maker told me to.”

She watched as Cosima blinked once, twice, three times in shock, clearly not expecting to hear that as a reason. “Can you elaborate?”

“I know that sounds… absolutely insane – but it’s true! I had a dream, a vision!”

The man spoke: “More crazy? I thought we were full up!” Cosima glared at him from over her shoulder before returning her attention to Leliana. He made a show of buttoning his lips to her back; the other woman rolled her eyes at him.

“Look at the people here. They are lost in their despair, and this darkness, this chaos… will spread. The Maker doesn’t want this. What you do, what you are _meant_ to do, is the Maker’s work. Let me help!”

Cosima looked at Leliana in silence for a long moment before she spoke: “Very well, I will not turn away help when it is offered.”

The other woman in the party scoffed. “Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than Mother thought.” It was her turn to get a glare from Cosima; she raised an eyebrow in return but said nothing more.

“Thank you; I appreciate being given this chance. I will **not** let you down!”

“I pray it does not end in your death,” Cosima said solemnly. Half turning to the left, she gestured to her companions one at a time. “The warrior is Alistair. The lady is Morrigan. And the Mabari is Rabbit.”

Said Mabari gave an excited bark at hearing his name, his entire rear-end wagging with his short tail. “Yes, I said your name. Do you expect a treat for knowing it?” Cosima asked, a tired amusement in her voice. She looked up at her other two companions, “Go ahead and get what provisions you can. Leliana and I will be along shortly.”

“Barlin, the man standing just there, should have some things for sale,” Leliana offered. They nodded and drifted away; she noticed they kept a good amount of distance between each other.

“Rabbit, here. You need to meet Leliana, she’ll be traveling with us now.” He immediately latched himself to her side, sitting and staring up at Cosima in utter devotion, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making it look as if he were smiling.

Looking back up at Leliana, she asked: “Have you met a mabari before?”

“I’ve not had the pleasure, no,” Leliana answered with a shake of her head.

“They are war hounds first and foremost,” Cosima explained, her hand coming to rest on his head; he squinted his eyes, and his smile widened. It was hard for Leliana to imagine such a happy looking dog as a war hound. “He will need to know your scent so he does not attack you, should we end up in a fight, which is all too likely as you just witnessed. He is coming to be familiar with Alistair and Morrigan.”

“That is a possibility?”

Cosima nodded. “It is. But mabari are smart… smart enough not to talk,” her face takes on a haunted look at that. Leliana isn’t given the opportunity to ask what was wrong before Cosima shakes herself and continued speaking. “Rabbit imprinted on me two, nearly three winters ago, just weeks after he was born, I took over raising him at that point, so him attacking me in the heat of battle has never been an issue. Others he does not know as well are not as fortunate. We nearly learned that the hard way, oh, a week ago when we were waylaid by a group of darkspawn on our way here. Alistair ended up covered in tainted blood and Rabbit was ready to take his arm off if not for my command to stop.”

Leliana now looked at the mabari with a hesitance. “I see…”

“Stay with us long enough and he’ll learn your scent as well as he knows my own,” Cosima promised. “Just keep in mind that he’s a war dog when you’re around him and you’ll not suffer his bite.”

Rabbit barked in what seemed confirmation.

Cosima held out her hand to Leliana, beckoning her closer. “Let him smell you.”

Not one to be daunted by anything, Leliana placed her hand in Cosima’s gloved one and let her guide her hand to the mabari’s snout. He snuffled her hand very intently for a moment before he looked back up at Cosima and let his tongue loll out in a smile once more.

“He seems to like you,” she remarked. “You must be a trustworthy person.”

“Smart boy, indeed,” Leliana said with a smile.

Just a corner of Cosima’s mouth lifted at that before she was frowning again. “Do you have armor?”

“Ah, I’m afraid not,” Leliana said, looking down at her Chantry robes.

“My old leathers should still be in my pack,” Cosima said. “We’re close enough the same build; they should fit you well enough until we’re able to find something more suitable.”

“Thank you!”

Cosima waved her off. “It wouldn’t do for you to die for lack of armor. Have you any weapons beyond that dagger?”

“Again, no, I’m afraid not.”

“Would you prefer another blade? Sword and shield? Bow and arrows? Crossbow?”

“A bow would be preferable,” Leliana admitted. Cosima moved to take the bow off of her own back. “You don’t have to give me _yours_! Maker, you are generous.”

Cosima surprised her with a rough laugh. “I am a _horrible_ shot, Sister. I’m far more likely to shoot myself with this than an enemy. If a bow is what you prefer, it would be of better service in your hands than mine.”

“Thank you,” Leliana said, taking the bow and quiver.

Morrigan returned with Alistair in tow. “That _fool_ had nothing of any substantial use, aside from these recipes which might interest you.”

“And flasks! Now Morrigan can whip up some of those poultices that Elder Miriam wanted.” Alistair chimed in, grinning cheekily at the dour woman. His cheer seemed somewhat forced, Leliana noticed. “I also got Rabbit some Mabari crunch, thought that might make him like me more.” Rabbit wagged his tail in agreement.

“I know not why you insist on helping these people,” Morrigan grumbled.

“I’d mix them myself, but I’m more likely to poison them,” Cosima said, seemingly innocent. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Morrigan rolled her eyes, but handed her items over anyways, and took the flasks from Alistair. “Very well, I shall do it. Just know I think this to be a waste of time and resources.”

“Thank you, Morrigan, Alistair,” Cosima said, satisfied.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. “Since you are feeling so charitable, why don’t we go look at that board outside the Chantry? Certainly, it will hold more pleas for help,” she asked, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

The corners of Cosima’s lips twitched up briefly. “What a wonderful idea, Morrigan.”

“What? I did not mean–”

“No, I think it’s a fine idea!” Alistair chimed in. “Let’s go, quickly, before someone else can take all the jobs!”

He started walking towards the door with Cosima following, pulling the rest of the group with her.

“Do we not have other more _pressing_ matters to attend to?” Morrigan asked, walking astride Cosima. “Like, perhaps, the **Blight**? The horde of darkspawn that has been nipping at our heels the whole way here?”

“It is that close?” Leliana asked. Her concern pulling her brows together.

“Unfortunately,” Alistair confirmed, falling in step with Leliana. His thus far teasing tone grew dark.

“And _that_ is why we are going to do what we can to help these people,” Cosima said, leading them across the bridge. “We are Grey Wardens. It is our duty to protect the people of Thedas. Right now, we can best do that by helping with what these people need doing so they can evacuate this village sooner rather than later.”

She looked at Morrigan. “This does not mean I wish you to stop voicing your opinions, however.”

“Very well,” the woman grumbled, apparently accepting Cosima’s reasonings. Leliana was mildly impressed with how she was able to handle the acerbic woman, who for all the world appeared as if she would rather be anywhere else.

Certainly, there was a tale to be told there on how such a woman came to travel with the Wardens, but Leliana doubted she would be able to ask for it. Not _yet_ , at least. If there was one thing in all the world she had a weakness for, it was stories.

Cosima pulled the top parchment from the board, reading it before passing it to Morrigan. Alistair braved her glare to take it to read next, Leliana reading alongside him.

“Bandits,” Leliana said distastefully. “They would make it hard for the people of Lothering to leave.”

“All the more reason to deal with them,” Cosima said. She spared a glance at Leliana. “It may be best if you sit out fighting until you’re able to try on my old leathers.”

“I handled myself well enough in the Dane’s Refuge, did I not?”

“You did,” Cosima allowed. “But they were drunk, and I was not responsible for you then. I am now.”

“Might as well do as she says,” Alistair interjected, trying and failing to suppress a smile. “She’s both stubborn and persuasive, it won’t be long until you find yourself doing as she asks without even realizing it, whether you want to do it or not.”

“Oh, don’t act like you resent that, Alistair,” Cosima said. “ _You’re_ the senior Grey Warden and yet you asked to follow my lead. I can’t even _sense_ the darkspawn yet!”

“Indeed. I think he would be unable to tie the laces on his boots if not for your direction,” Morrigan added.

“Hey!” Alistair yipped. “That’s not true!”

“They buckle anyways,” Cosima pointed out, sounding far too innocent to actually be innocent.

“An even more dexterous task,” Morrigan said.

Alistair groaned and Leliana laughed at their banter. “If nothing else, the journey should prove to be most entertaining if this is how you speak to each other.”

“Oh, I’m _so_ glad to be able to provide the comedic relief,” Alistair said dryly.

“Tis all you’re good for,” Morrigan agreed.

Cosima shook her head at the two. “The point still stands; it would be reckless and foolish for you to fight in your Chantry robes.”

“Very well,” Leliana relented, knowing that she was correct. “Might I try those leathers on then?”

Cosima nodded. “Alistair, take Rabbit and scout out where those bandits are. Try not to engage them until we can all be there.”

“See, Sister, I told you! Doing as she asks whether you want to or not,” He said. “Come on Rabbit, let’s see who can be stealthier. Loser gets an arrow to the side. Probably.” Rabbit showed his teeth at Alistair but followed him nevertheless.

Cosima shook her head again and knelt down, pulling her pack from her back, and began rummaging through it. “Ah, Morrigan, you don’t have to mix up those poultices, after all, I’ve some here. Would you give these to Elder Miriam?” She held out three flasks of what looked like health potions.

Morrigan took them and held them up to the light, examining them. “You did not mix these, did you?”

“No,” Cosima said with a chuckle. “I’m far more adept at poisons, as you are aware.”

“Quite,” Morrigan agreed tightly. “Very well, I shall deliver these. If she offers a reward, don’t expect me to turn it down.”

“We could use the coin,” Cosima allowed.

“I _know_ ,” Morrigan said over her shoulder as she walked away.

Leliana felt like there was a story behind that exchange as well, but before she was able to ask for it, Cosima pulled out a leather jerkin, a linen tunic, a pair of bracers, studded leather trousers, and boots. “Here you are,” she said, handing it all over to her.

“Until we’re able to find you a pack of your own, you’re welcome to keep anything you wish in mine.”

“I fear I’m more of a burden than helpful at this point,” Leliana lamented.

“Nonsense,” Cosima said, standing and hoisting her pack up on her shoulders. “I feel better knowing the Maker is on our side, truthfully. And that is far more helpful than you know.”

“Then… you believe me?” Leliana asked.

Cosima nodded. “I have seen much… experienced much in these past weeks. It is only through the will of the Maker that I am standing here today. Who am I to say what He has or has not done for you?”

Leliana smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you.”

“Do you think there is a room in the Chantry where you could change, Sister?”

“Certainly,” Leliana said. “I will be just a moment.”

“If we are not here when you return, meet us by the Dane’s Refuge.”

Leliana gave a nod and then slipped into the Chantry, knowing just the dark corner she could change in. She hastily began to strip, intent on helping the Grey Wardens with the bandits. Hopefully, no one would catch her.

“Sister Leliana!”

Pulling the tunic down over her small clothes in a panic, she looked up and grinned when she saw who it was. “Oh, come now Bethany, it is not as if I have anything you do not.”

“But _Sister_!” Bethany protested, apparently unable to say anything more.

“What are you doing here, why hasn’t your family evacuated yet?” Leliana asked as pulled the leather jerkin on, _Cosima really does have a good eye for guessing size… the shoulders are a little broad, however_.

She gave a great sigh. “I don’t know _what_ we’re waiting for,” the girl said, scuffing her foot on the floor. “The more Hila tries to push mother to leave, the more it seems she’s set on staying here.”

Leliana frowned and stepped into the breeches before leaning against the wall to pull the boots on. “What of Carver? What does he say?”

Bethany made a face. “Nothing useful, that’s what. What about you, are you leaving?”

“I am,” Leliana said as she tied the quiver to her side and pulled the bracers on – just as well they weren’t gloves as she thought Cosima had larger hands than she. “The Grey Wardens that survived Ostagar need all the help they can get to end this Blight.”

“There are Wardens here? Even after Teyrn Loghain declared them traitors?”

“Two of them, in fact,” Leliana confirmed. “They sent the men Loghain left here running not even an hour ago.” Sheathing the dagger at her side, she held her arms out. “Well? How do I look?”

“Like you’re ready to kill some darkspawn,” Bethany said with a smile. “Be careful, Sister Leliana. I hope we meet again one day – I expect to hear all the new tales you learn when we do.”

“You can count on it,” Leliana promised. She pulled the girl into a tight hug. “Be safe, Bethany. May the Maker watch over you and guide your path.” She pulled back from the embrace, now gripping the other woman’s forearms, staring seriously into her eyes. “Try to convince your mother to leave, perhaps even today. The Wardens say that the darkspawn are closing in – I know not when they will descend.”

Her eyes widened fearfully. “I, I will. Thank you, Sister.”

“Farewell, Bethany.”

Leliana draped her Chantry robes over her arm and left the alcove, her hand gliding over the stone walls, saying her own goodbye to the peace she had known within its bounds. Peace she had never known before in her life, except at her mother’s side.

Cosima is still waiting by the Chanter’s board when she descends the steps. Leliana graces her with a wide smile when she notices her approach.

Cosima cast a critical eye over Leliana once she was standing in front of her. “Good, they fit. I am a little broader than you and I worried it would make the jerkin unwearable.”

“You are, but it will not be a hindrance. You’ve a good eye, Warden.” Leliana said. She lowered her gaze and traced her fingers over the embroidered sun on her Chantry robes, biting her lip – it would be pointless to keep them now, she did not know if she would ever make her way back to the life of a Sister, but –

“Do you want to put that in my pack?” Cosima asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“I don’t want to impose-”

“I offered, did I not?” Cosima cut her off. “It is not imposing.” She took her pack from her back again and held out her hand for the robes expectantly.

Leliana passed them to her, knowing instinctually that the Warden would not take no for an answer. Alistair had been correct, in that regard, despite his teasing.

Morrigan approached them as Cosima knelt to put Leliana’s robes away and tossed a worn coin purse to Cosima; she very nearly did not catch it. “Fifty silver pieces,” she said. “Generous, for how worn this village is.”

“Generous indeed,” Cosima agreed, her brows raised. She slipped the purse inside of the larger purse that hung from her belt. “Thank you, Morrigan.”

“Hardly a task that merits thanks, but you are welcome,” the woman said, her tone indicating that it was the least important thing in the world, but Leliana knew better.

Reading people, strangers, had been an important skill to have as a bard, and while Morrigan was not near as easy to read as Alistair, Leliana could see that the Warden’s words held weight with the woman. A romantic interest, perhaps?

No, that wasn’t quite right. It looked to be more complicated than that.

She averted her gaze before she could be caught, and found Cosima folding her robes slowly, carefully. A blush rose high on her cheeks – why hadn’t she thought to do that! Maker, the Warden must think her to be a, a _child_!

Even in her embarrassment, Leliana couldn’t help but appreciate the reverence that Cosima treated her robes with when she could have just as easily crumpled them up and shoved them into her bag.

“Let’s go find the boys,” she said, standing. “If Alistair let Rabbit get hit by an arrow, he has first watch for a month.”

Morrigan snorted. “Tis far more likely that _he_ is the one who was struck, and not your hound. Lead on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably could have fit all of Lothering in this chapter, but it probably would have been at least twice as long lol, and Hila is my name for Hawke - I really like names that are alliterations :)
> 
> Also, if any of you are here from my other story, this one is easier to update because I'm just embellishing on the plot a game that I've played so very many times whereas in FD I pretty much only borrowed the characters and a vague idea of the plot of Harry Potter

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're wondering, no I'm not okay 😊 ❤  
> This is going to turn into a multi-chapter fic, I just know it


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